


falling for you (when you are worlds away)

by pieii



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Online Friendship, Yearning, another l.a. fic from yours truly ;D, chanlix being dummies, felix is cute but whats new, happy birthday crouton mwah, minho lip gloss agenda rise, online bfs au !!!!!!!, theyre whipped your honor, this is ....... gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28098384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pieii/pseuds/pieii
Summary: The sun stretches ninety million miles to reach the earth.Jisung's smile stretches across a shitty international Skype call to reach Minho.(If Minho thought he was blinding across an ocean, it's nothing compared to how he is three feet away.)or:Minho meets his love in L.A.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 30
Kudos: 182





	falling for you (when you are worlds away)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jisungshotfirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jisungshotfirst/gifts).



> hello again my lovey loves ;-; im back with more minsung ;D
> 
> we r not going 2 talk abt how i wanted to post this on august 30 !!! it simpley is not important
> 
> the night i posted this i got accepted to my dream college yall .. minsung magic methinks !!!!
> 
> [baby playlist](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2EJG-r4L00LhxVWOQZq8Il5yCHuGcmsB) in the end notes <3
> 
> title is from come back, be here by taylor swift !! an underrated bop if u ask me 
> 
> for kit  
> (love you till the world ends)

**joodles**

**lee lino**

[picture]

[picture]

girls gone wild !

**joodles**

Why … are u awake

**lee lino**

the girls have gone wild !

**joodles**

Arent ur cats ALWAYS wild babe

**lee lino**

irrelevant !!!

im blessing ur screen with my girls and u should feel blessed

**joodles**

Yes i feel very blessed 😌🙏🙌

Saving them to my camera roll as we speak

But!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I would feel even more blessed if u … idk … went to sleep

**lee lino**

yes babe but heres th e thing

its ZESTY over here

zest > sleep

actualy its probs more like zest >>>>>>>> sleep but u get the idea

**joodles**

Okay honestly i cant even fault u for that bc .. mood

But please sleep soon 🥺

**lee lino**

no ❤️

**joodles**

🙄

**lee lino**

soonie just licked my ankle ..

fun fact soonies kisses r protection buffs

im the reverse achilles

**joodles**

Soonei is the river styx personified confirmed

**lee lino**

soonei ..

shall i edit her birth certificate

i love my cat lee soonei

**joodles**

U are so sweet im so glad ur my bf 😍

Getting some cereal 4 breakfast … gay rights

Did you fall asleep babe

Hehe guess so

Good night lovey

Minho wakes up the way he usually does: with the pleasant sensation of Dori’s bony paws landing directly on his spine.

It’s the price he has to pay for being a stomach sleeper. At least, that’s what Jisung says. But Jisung is a side sleeper, which automatically invalidates his opinion.

He shoves his face back into his welcoming pillow, letting Dori pad around on his back for a little longer. It's like one of those expensive salon massages, except his masseuse is a three-pound teenage cat with a scrunched-up face and a penchant for eating hoodie strings.

His phone vibrates from where it's … somewhere in his bed. After reaching down to his charger and following the chewed-up cord, he fumbles the phone in his hand for a good couple seconds before his home screen pops up.

On top of said home screen—“the worst picture of Dori that’s ever been taken, c’mon Minho, that’s the blurriest picture in your camera roll,” according to Changbin—are forty-three text notifications. Five from Jisung, and thirty-eight from the groupchat he very unfortunately is a part of.

**OPERATION MIMSUNG 🥺🥴😍**

**Bang Chan**

Todayyyyyyyyyyyy

**felix on dem hoes**

is the dayyyyyyyyyyyy

**Bang Chan**

Todayyyyyyyyyyyyyy

**felix on dem hoes**

is the dayyyyyyyyyyyyyy

**lee lino**

have yall REALLY been doing this since 8am

**Bang Chan**

Yes

**felix on dem hoes**

don't tell me you're surprised

**lee lino**

i wish i were tbh

😔 the struggles are real

**Bang Chan**

You do know thats not how you say it …….

Right………..

**lee lino**

😔😔😔😔😔

**felix on dem hoes**

enough LAMENTING bitch

you have a flight to catch!!!!

**lee lino**

!!!!

and ur Sure he doesnt know

**Bang Chan**

He is ~clueless~

**lee lino**

and i love him for it 🥰

**felix on dem hoes**

gay

**lee lino**

my point exactly

youll be seeing this gay ass in a sexy couple hours

**Bang Chan**

Dont forget your passport!!!!!

**lee lino**

o no there go my plans to forget my passport

u rly out here trying to ruin all my fun smh

Dori wandered off sometime during the conversation, so, free at last, Minho switches over to Spotify, hitting play on _Daily Mix 2_ before rolling over and sitting up.

As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door.

“Why do you look like you just woke up?” Changbin asks when Minho opens it, instead of ‘Hello.’

“Because I just woke up,” Minho answers, instead of ‘Hey, how are you?’ “Get it together, Seo.”

Changbin opens his mouth, but the snark melts off him when Doongie pads around the corner and enters the kitchen.

“Hi, baby,” he coos, crouching down and flinging his arms open.

He gets a noncommittal brush of her tail instead of the army-parent-homecoming he may have been expecting, but that doesn’t deter him from his kissy face agenda.

It’s a cuter sight than Minho is willing to admit, so he goes to pack his passport and his toothbrush, grinning to himself.

“Alrighty, so …” Minho trails off, checking his backpack one last time. Charger, wallet, bag of Dove caramel chocolates. He’s got everything he needs. “You know where their food is. Treats are in the drawer next to the fridge—you know that. Don’t let Soonie have too many, even though I know you will because I do, too.” Minho shuffles over to the loveseat where Soonie is napping, leaving a tiny kiss on her tiny forehead. “Refill the water every morning, and if you let them out on the balcony you gotta go out there with them. I’ve had it with the pigeon hunting.”

“Gotcha,” Changbin nods, humoring Minho even though he’s given Changbin this exact spiel at least four times.

“And you can use my gift card for that chicken place down by the shoe store.”

“Yay!” Changbin cheers, leaping over to Minho and tugging him into a tight hug.

Minho tucks his chin into his best friend’s shoulder, secretly glad Changbin spends all that time at the gym despite making fun of him for it approximately twice a day. His hugs are the best.

“Alright, Lee,” Changbin says, pulling back and going up on tiptoe to ruffle Minho’s hair. “Go get your boy.”

Minho rolls his eyes, but there’s no point in trying to hide his smile. He picks up his suitcase and opens the door.

“You better send me pictures!” Changbin calls into the hallway at Minho’s retreating back.

“I’ll think about it,” Minho replies, before shutting the elevator doors.

The flight … is a flight. It’s high up off the ground. Really high up off the ground. Unnecessarily high up off the ground, if you ask Minho. Unfortunately, the pilot did not ask Minho.

He spends the sexy couple hours alternating between watching downloaded episodes of _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ , scrolling through his camera roll looking at pictures of his cats, and imagining how it will be to hold Jisung in his arms.

The airport … is an airport. More specifically, it’s LAX, and it’s three P.M. So it’s crowded and loud and Minho’s standing in line at the three P.M. LAX Starbucks, opening his text conversation with Jisung to complain about it before remembering that as far as Jisung knows, Minho is vibing in Korea with his cats.

**joodles**

**lee lino**

got some iced coffee

slorp

**joodles**

Slorp!!!!!!!!!

Are u free to skype i miss ur face :(((((

**lee lino**

not rn </3

**joodles**

Curses!

**lee lino**

homophobia at its finest

but ill see u soon baby promise

**joodles**

Yayy

Imma be ~performing~ at the coffeeshop later!!

_I know,_ Minho thinks.

 _hell yea !!!!!!!!_ Minho types, not one for ruining his own fun.

**joodles**

<3!!!

Minho drags himself over to the luggage claim to claim his luggage—a plain black suitcase plastered with cat stickers Changbin found at Staples that he treasures far more than someone should treasure a suitcase.

Although … if his suitcase got lost … that _would_ give him an excuse to wear nothing but Jisung’s clothes for two whole weeks.

Because that’s a thing he can do now. 

He can wear Jisung’s clothes.

Even his jet-lagged, bumbling little brain classifies this as a Big Deal™.

He already knows which of Jisung’s hoodies he’ll steal first: the bright green one. The one Jisung was wearing the first time they Skyped, because Lee Minho is a sentimental bitch who loves his boyfriend. And who pretended to go blind for fifteen minutes because ‘bright green’ _means_ bright green when it comes to Jisung.

He'll steal the fuzzy black sweater, too. And the RipnDip shirt.

Deep in Head Full Thoughts Jisung mode, he’s just missed his mouth with his straw a second time when a shout of his name draws his attention to two people standing near the water fountain.

One of them is doing some very enthusiastic windmill arms, and the other is waving around a sign. A bright pink, glittertastic sign that says OPERATION MIMSUNG in big block letters with the emojis printed out.

Minho falls in love all over again.

He’s barely blinked before he’s got an armful of Lee Felix, OPERATION MIMSUNG sign cast away in favor of catapulting his entire body onto Minho.

Chan moves forward, and Minho thinks he’s going to pry Felix off him so he can get some actual oxygen but all Chan does is sweep them both into his arms.

And Minho … well. He can’t really complain.

They wait together for Minho’s treasured suitcase to make its long-awaited appearance.

Their accents sound more pronounced than they do over Skype.

Chan’s dimple is the second cutest thing in the world. (First is his flustered little giggle when Minho tells him.)

Minho traces the freckles lacing Felix’s face the way he’s seen Jisung do countless times from his laptop screen.

Neither of them lets go of his hand.

“We need to take selfies. All the selfies.”

Minho just got off an unsexily long flight and definitely looks more like a crumpled napkin than a person, but he poses anyway, because whoever said crumpled napkins weren’t model material?

Felix tap-tap-taps, and twenty seconds later a ten-photo set is on his Instagram with the caption ‘ran into this shorty today.’

“Won’t Jisung see?” Minho asks, pouting a little at the thought of his surprise being ruined.

Chan snorts. “Jisung only has Instagram notifications for you and that one ASMR YouTuber that builds those tiny houses for their hamster. He’ll see these, like, next week.”

Minho grins at the thought. That’s his Jisung.

Chan drives them back to Jisung’s apartment so Minho doesn’t have to lug his treasured suitcase around the streets of L.A. And so Minho can make himself look a little less like a crumpled napkin.

“Shut up,” Felix whines, kicking the back of the passenger seat. “Sungie fell in love with you without even knowing what you look like, dumbass.”

“I haven’t done my eyebrows,” Minho whines right back.

Chan insists Minho stay only in the bathroom, because “Jisung will sulk for days if he’s not the one who gets to show you his home,” and Minho can’t really argue with that.

Still, even the bathroom is a tell. It’s everything they’ve never thought to tell each other about. The Cetaphil cleanser in the shower, the cartoon shark toothbrush holder on the sink, the Bath & Body Works Warm Apple Pie candle on the windowsill.

He can imagine Jisung stumbling in here with his hair all messy and his face all puffy. Humming whatever tune pops into his mind, probably getting toothpaste all over his dumb mouth.

He can imagine it so vividly he almost expects to see the door open.

But the door stays closed, and Minho is standing in his boyfriend’s bathroom. The cat clock on the wall ticks on. It’s surreal, and at the same time so unendingly real it makes his skin prickle.

There’s a knock on the door, and Minho jumps, coming worryingly close to braining himself on the edge of the sink.

“Sungie’s set starts in, like, twenty minutes,” Felix calls, “so we should get going soon if you wanna make it for the whole thing!”

And Minho has been waiting for entirely too long to hold Jisung, and see him, and just. Be with him. He rinses his face and brushes his hair and does his eyebrows and his mind is alight with the thought that in twenty minutes, he’ll be … there. In front of Jisung. With Jisung.

With Jisung.

The thought … it’s so completely new, but somehow it’s just like tapping the snow off his shoes on his doormat, like Dori zipping into his room for cuddles, like the crickets singing under his window.

Love is a paradox like that, he supposes.

And with that, he slips his tube of lip gloss out of the pocket of his jean jacket to finish off the look.

Chan turns on 103.5 on the drive over, and Felix gives Minho a comprehensive walkthrough of the pastry selection of the coffeeshop Jisung’s playing at.

“Their croissants are good, but the almond ones are definitely better than the plain ones. If you’re a chocolate croissant kinda guy, you’ll be fine, but ask them to heat it up for you.”

“Do they have any muffins?”

“Yes! They have blueberry, orange cranberry, lemon poppyseed,” Felix lists, counting off on his fingers. “And … pumpkin, but I’m pretty sure those are seasonal.”

“You’re very well acquainted with the muffin menu,” Minho notes.

“I’m doing my Master’s on it.”

“A worthy field to dedicate yourself to.”

Minho’s grip tightens on his seat belt, in an attempt to stop his hands from shaking, or doing something equally ridiculous like opening the car door and launching himself out onto the semi-matte pavement.

“Isn’t it so pretty out?” Felix sighs. Minho leans under the visor to peek at the bright gray-blue sky, and in the same instance there’s a soft little hand on top of his.

Given that Chan is driving, and there’s only one other person in the car, Minho deduces that it’s Felix’s. A quick glance to the backseat confirms it. Minho drums his fingers in the dip of Felix’s knuckles.

Chan puts the sunroof down once they exit the highway, and the bright gray-blue sky warms the apples of Minho’s cheeks.

The coffeeshop is cute. It’s everything he expected, really—it’s an L.A. café, walking distance from the beach. Hanging plants, chalk menu sitting on the sidewalk, those Pinteresty uncovered lightbulbs.

Minho stops, though, before he can push open the stained-glass door.

This L.A. café in particular … happens to contain the boy of his dreams. Which makes it a significantly sexier café than all others in L.A.

Chan’s hand rests on the small of his back, light. It’s just his fingertips, really. Minho feels dizzy.

“Ready?”

Minho swallows, and mostly avoids choking on it. _Ready_ , what a silly question. He was born ready.

This is Han Jisung they’re talking about. Minho is going to hold that boy in his arms if it’s the last thing he ever does.

He pushes the door open.

(Well. He tries. It’s pull, so he _pulls_ it open and ignores Chan’s and Felix’s twin snickering.)

Jisung’s not here yet. Minho’s eyes scan the room the second he steps in 

Not even the bone-deep Seeing-Jisung emotions can fully chase away the tiredness behind his eyes, so he orders coffee. And a lemon poppyseed muffin, though that’s less of a choice and more of Chan pushing a plate in front of him.

Felix munches on his almond croissant, staying true to his reviews. “He’ll be out in a sec. Probably doing his Sharpay warm-up. Brrp, brrp, brrp,” he trills, and Chan joins in on the “Mah!”

Minho snorts, settling into his seat—positioned carefully so Chan is directly between him and Jisung.

He doesn’t want Jisung to see him before the set is over; Jisung’ll cry like a baby, and he won’t even be able to pick up his guitar, and Minho would sooner pass up a chance to put Soonie in one of those cat Halloween costumes than a chance to see his boyfriend singing, performing, giving music to the world with the same ease he gives smiles.

And he will get to see that.

(The thought still hasn’t quite sunk in. It probably won’t for a while, even after Jisung comes out, even after Minho can see him, even after the stupid swingy saloon door in the back of the café opens and someone walks out in a dumb bucket hat carrying an acoustic guitar with two hands and oh—)

 _Oh,_ Minho thinks, watching the person shuffle to the stool. _There he is._

It’s funny. They’ve spent their whole lives existing on the same earth, under the same sky.

Now they exist in the same crowded coffeeshop. Under the same Edison lightbulbs, the same industrial-chic ceiling. It’s the same world it’s always been, but this air is more sweet and this light is more gentle and the only thing keeping Minho tethered to this cushioned bench is the unapologetic smile that curves Jisung’s mouth.

There’s just so much of him: the way he hooks an ankle inside the stool support bar; the way his bucket hat pushes down his ears and it looks absolutely idiotic; the way his voice settles over you, pushes into you.

 _It must get great reverb from his cheeks,_ Minho thinks. And then Jisung clears his throat and sits up straight and begins.

Jisung sings: “I wonder what it’s like, to be loved by you. I wonder what it’s like, to be home.”

Jisung sings: “And it always leads to you, in my hometown.”

Jisung sings, and he sings, and he sings and _there he is,_ Minho’s boyfriend with love letter hands.

So this is how he exists. Brightly, brightly. Beautifully. Minho’s eyes fall on his shirt. It’s too big for him, cloudlessly gray. So this is how he breathes.

It's over in an instant that lasts hours.

It takes Minho a minute to remember where he is, remember that this is the moment he steps off the screen. This is where he can reach out and pull Jisung close, the way he's longed to since, well. Since the beginning of time, probably. Since a year and a half ago, definitely.

Jisung disappears into the back, leaving a dazed Minho staring at an empty stool.

Chan and Felix are giggling again. Minho can't even bring himself to care. Jisung wears platform Filas. Minho's heart nestles into his collarbones. Around him, the world hums, pleased.

And then a couple things happen.

The back door swings open.

Jisung steps out.

Minho steps up.

Minho trips over the table leg, and bangs his hip on the table corner, and has been for the most part utterly bested by a table made of wood from a recycled bowling alley. (They boast about it on the label.) It's all sort of embarrassing—or, rather: it would be embarrassing if Minho could focus on anything other than Jisung, who looked up at the commotion and now looks like he's seen a ghost.

And while Minho does sort of feel like a ghost, first and foremost he is a boyfriend, so he does what any good boyfriend would do and steps out into the open space of the café.

It's too big, he thinks. Too much. He's gone through the Pacific Ocean and The Worst Airport Known To Man and this chessboard floor is _still_ trying to keep them apart.

Homophobia, if you ask Minho.

"Minho?"

 _Oh._ And there's that, too. Jisung's sunrise eyes, cumulus cloud cheeks. His birdsong mouth.

The speakers of Minho's Chromebook that's going on three years old now could never do justice to the way Jisung's voice forms his name.

And his imagination could never do justice to the way Jisung crumples and straightens up all at once, not to the way Minho does the same, not to the way Minho steps once to Jisung's twice, not to the way he's got an armful of now hoodie-clad Han Jisung and there's something overflowing inside his chest and Jisung's sobbing, just like Minho knew he would.

(That's the one thing his imagination got right.)

 _I wonder what it's like, to be loved by you,_ Jisung sang, and Minho wondered too. But he knows now. Being loved by Jisung feels like pressing your cheek into the top of his head, feels like his arms around your waist like he's afraid he'll open them and you'll be gone.

(He knows Jisung is five foot seven. He knows this.

They’ve compared heights, and Minho knows objectively the way Jisung’s body should fit into his own.

But knowing things and experiencing them are very different.)

"Minho," Jisung half-sighs, half-sobs. "You're the fucking worst." He tucks himself into Minho's collarbone, right where his heart beats.

"I know." Minho presses a kiss to the crown of Jisung's head. Then he tugs off Jisung's bucket hat so he can do it again, letting Jisung's soft hair tickle his chin.

Apparently, that doesn't help, because Jisung cries harder. But Minho sways where he stands, rocks them back and forth. He's not crying, not quite—Jisung's always been the emotional one between the two of them—but his heart implodes, so, so softly.

Once Jisung's hands unclench from where he's gripping the hem of Minho's shirt, he takes a step back and looks up at Minho.

Minho giggles, reaching up to cup Jisung's face. It's just as cuppable as he imagined.

He wipes away Jisung's tears like he imagined doing on their hardest nights and it just makes him cry more, and their faces are so close and he can see Jisung's crooked tooth that is cuter than any crooked tooth has the right to be and it's so … much. It's so much, and Minho wants it all.

Jisung tilts his face up, and for a second Minho wants to say fuck it and just kiss him, in the middle of this café in L.A., in front of all these people.

But they bitch together about partners who don't know how to keep the PDA under control so Minho takes Jisung's hand and Jisung intertwines their fingers and that is better than anything else in the world.

("I can't believe you hugged my boyfriend before me!" Jisung wails in the vague direction of Chan and Felix, looking so genuinely distressed Minho has no choice but to tug Jisung directly into his arms.

"Hey, all your friends hugged _my_ boyfriend before I did," Minho protests.

Jisung scrunches his face up, before he understands what Minho said and slaps him on the shoulder, resting his cheek in the same spot a split second later.

"I fucking hate you," he whines, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Minho's neck and planting a little kiss there.

Minho brushes a hand through Jisung's hair. “I debated jumping out of a cake, but I thought you might be disappointed that there wasn’t really a cake that big.”

Jisung sniffles, wiping at his eyes with his hoodie sleeves. “Damn right I would’ve been.”

But Felix shows them the video he took later on, and Jisung makes fun of himself for crying despite being on the verge of tears again. Minho just holds him tighter.)

There are so many things to do here, to do with Jisung, to do in L.A., and Minho wants to do them all but he hasn't slept in about twenty hours.

"We can go out tomorrow night," Jisung laughs, running his hand through Minho's hair. If Minho were a cat, he'd be purring loud enough to make the floor vibrate. "But you're probably really tired, and I kinda just want you all to myself right now."

So they stay in, and Jisung digs out his old bin of sheet masks, and because he's quite possibly the sleepiest person on Earth he dozes off halfway through Minho's playlist.

Minho peels the mask off for him, and tosses it into the trash can. It half-makes it in, clinging to the plastic side like a taunt.

But Minho doesn't mind.

Not now, not when can feel the way Jisung’s body gets heavier as he falls asleep for real, as he stops holding himself up, as his breathing slows and his face smooths out.

Warmth rushes into every part of Minho’s body. His hand is steady as he reaches up to rest a hand on the nape of Jisung’s neck, cradling his head, thumb brushing through the ends of his hair.

Just being _here_ , having Jisung underneath his fingertips … it’s so, so good.

He’s sleeping in Minho’s arms. Minho’s finally got him.

**Author's Note:**

> [baby playlist:](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2EJG-r4L00LhxVWOQZq8Il5yCHuGcmsB)  
> Stay — TAEYEON  
> Made in Hollywood — LANY  
> Wild Heart — Bleachers  
> Orphans — Coldplay  
> When I Grow Up — SEVENTEEN  
> Sweet Creature — Harry Styles  
> Walk In The Sun — McFly
> 
> thank u so much for reading !! leave kudos n comments if u liked it <3 local fool craves validation
> 
> the first song jisung sings is walk in the sun by mcfly n the second is 'tis the damn season by taylor swift <3
> 
> also no shame to side sleepers yall r VALID minho is just opinionated
> 
> no one asked but minhos lip gloss is fenty gloss bomb in the shade cheeky and i wont be accepting constructive criticism on this
> 
> u can find me [here](https://taeyeonsb.tumblr.com/) on tumblr and u can also find me in my other fics <3
> 
> u can find my heart [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27424159) in a fic written by our [dearest recipient himself](https://jisungshotfirst.tumblr.com/)
> 
> to all moas and atinys ....... not 2 give anything away but .. stay tuned ;]
> 
> if u follow i'm still (i'm here) i promise im still working on it sjdkdsfjs i simply have a chronic case of dumb binch disease<3
> 
> thank u again my loves <3 stay beautiful !!!! mwah !!!!!!!!!


End file.
